


A Little to the Left

by PinkAfroPuffs



Series: Fate/Slutty Meme Magus [10]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mutual Pining, No actual sex, Philosophy, fetish mention, im oppressing yall, moron x moron, sex mention, this is a NO mer-arthur zone, this is like...bond 8 merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 10:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAfroPuffs/pseuds/PinkAfroPuffs
Summary: She's moved something by accident. Is it a good adjustment or a bad one? Only time will tell.





	A Little to the Left

He was beginning to wonder how to categorize nonhumans who didn’t care about humanity, nor made any efforts to impede them. While those who apparently impeded or abhorred humanity were considered “beasts”, he himself was incredibly inhuman, to the point in which he was unsure if he could consider himself anything but. 

“There are a lot of people wearing human skin,” Ifumi had said once, and he’d marvelled at her clarity. “But that doesn’t mean they weren’t born human. So saying that you’re inhuman because you don’t _ act _ a certain way is wrong, isn’t it?”

Truly. But it did not make him more human- though, by such logic, it would not make him less. For a long time Merlin had simply considered himself an “anything”: a man who could fit any role demanded of him, a woman who could guide and honor promises, an oracle who could tell tales of the future to prevent the collapse of nations. None of those things had to be human, or even half-human; in his own youth, he’d wondered exactly what was “human” about someone such as himself, as he experienced such a disconnect with other children that he _ had _ to be something else. Something wrong. And that was fine. Being an ‘anything’ was a gift, and like most gifts, it could easily be a curse.

These were not inherently bad things. For the world was made up of gifts and curses and so forth and so on, of wonderful and truly abhorrent things at once. None of these were hidden from Merlin. What was hidden from Merlin was the substance in which human life staked itself on.

He never tired of talking about love. In its own mysterious form, it was rumored to have the power to transform “anything” into “something”. He’d searched for it for a long time; in times before Arthur, and during, he’d found himself caught in a _ something _ that was not unlike love, but far from it. But how could one know? Wasn’t that the beauty of it? Whether this woman or that man possessed it, did it matter where it came from, what it looked like?

He didn’t find it.

Maybe he was searching in the wrong places. Actually, he admitted to himself that such a thing was impossibly possible, given his own difficulty with Arthur. But she hadn’t demanded anything of him. She hadn’t asked. All she’d said was, “Thank you.”

It still burned in his breast.

What had she to thank him for? For grooming her into the king he wished for? The king their country needed? And what of her own needs? Of a stable life where she could smile and pick on her father’s habits with women, where she could start fights with her brother Kay and not worry about who was watching? 

Very few times had Merlin experienced hatred. But of those few times, a familiar, very common denominator found himself involved. A certain magus. It was becoming annoying. Why had love decided to strike at him in such a way? And, moreover, why had it manifested in the _ opposite _ way than he’d chased after? He’d been careless. Of course raising a child would make him a father. He should have foreseen that. After all, he could see everything, couldn’t he?

(He could not.)

He would not. He’d never tried. Such a life was ...unreasonable. He’d never used such a word before. But it was. A life where he could always see every outcome with his own two eyes would drive even him mad- probably. Of course, he _ prepared _ for every outcome; there were no dreams that were meant for one future, or even dreams that were clear enough the first, second, or even third times for him to know _ anything _ for sure, but they were real enough to make plans around. That was how he fooled everyone. It made him prideful. And he was paying for that pridefulness every day.

“You talk as though humanity is the peak of existence,” he smiled at the Master. “Would basing how human I am say how good I can or will be?”

“I’d never say that,” Ifumi shook her head. “Like I said, there are plenty of people who look human and act like animals. Like mindless beasts who only know how to eat, how to breathe, how to hurt. Most animals don’t even do that.” She sat down in front of him, crossing her legs as he did from his seat on the floor. “But humans are more than just instincts. Though animals can also show compassion and empathy, they rely on instinct more than critical thinking.”

“Hmm. So some humans are like animals, then?” He tilted his head, unable to stop his smile. These sorts of discussions often intrigued him in ways he couldn’t describe. Maybe the millenia in the tower simply made him crave stimulating conversation. Maybe it was less than that. 

“Yes and no. The idea that you _ have _ critical thought and decide not to use it doesn’t make you inhuman. It just makes you explicitly human. And, very stupid,” she wagged her finger. 

“How simple.”

“Very simple,” she smiled, her eyes sparkling against the fluorescent lighting. “See, an animal may know by instinct that they shouldn’t go into a certain place after dark, because predators will be around. A human may know this, cast away their critical thinking, and do it anyway, for whatever reason.” Her hands clasped together in a way that was familiar to him. “It also sparks a debate about the existence of free will, and how humans employ it vs the instincts we may have, given our lesser natures.”

What an intelligent manner of speaking! He feels a bit robbed of not knowing someone like her in the time of the King, as he would have enjoyed her company a bit too much. “Is it simply the way of this generation to speak this way?” He mused, one hand propping up his chin in its palm. 

“Oh, Merlin,” she clicked her tongue. “No! It’s just because I’m probably the smartest person on this planet right now!”

He chuckled softly, considering the truth in her words. “I doubt you would be one of the most daft even if everyone were still alive at this time,” he sort of murmurs to himself. 

“Hm?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He wonders if her endearing nature is what classifies her so specifically as a “something” instead of an “anything”, like him. Or, maybe it is that she is really “nothing”- a blank slate on which the world has imprinted and endowed the love of its planet- and that is why she is so beloved. He can’t decide. “You seem very keen on the concept of free will, as well. How can you be sure that such a thing is evidenced in humans? Or, moreso, that it shows up in more than just humans?”

“You can’t be,” she admits with a shrug. “It’s down to choice. At the end of the day, if someone goes against their instincts, or their nature, for whatever reason, as a conscious choice, they’re exhibiting ‘free will’ in its most basic form.”

“Do you think I have free will?” He asked suddenly, eyes wide and his head tilting just slightly. Though his voice was soft, he couldn’t hide his legitimate curiosity; such a thing had been a question lingering in his mind for ages now, and he couldn’t make up his mind to decide on the answer.

Her expression took on one of a sort of startled concern that he was interested in, the soft lines of her rounded face taking on that of a caretaker looking at a wounded animal. Then, very carefully, she asked, “Do _ you _?”

The question struck him like a blow to the head. In the back of his mind, he wanted to tell her, cutely, that _ he _ was the one who’d asked, that _ she _ should give him an answer, as it was only a joke, a game, and that they were playing it so well that it would be sad to stop. But he couldn’t. Instead he just sat there, frozen, his chin resting in his palm. 

“...hm,” was all he said, when his body recovered from the shock. “Well, this has been an enlightening conversation, Master, but I’m sure you have other Servants to attend to.” He watched her watching him rise to his feet, and very swiftly he turned with a bit of a wave and made his way out of the room. 

What on earth was this feeling? It didn’t taste good. If anything, it reminded him of poison.

* * *

“You know, Ifumi, it’s my birthday.”

She didn’t have to look up from the book she was marking at her desk. “Oh yeah?” Whether or not that was true, she already imagined what was coming.

“Mm,” said Merlin from behind her. When she glanced back, she could see he was laying on her bed again, like he owned the thing. “So, what are you going to get me as a gift? Don’t worry, you didn’t know, so I’ll ask for something you can give me.”

“I’m _ not _ going to spare coochie,” she breathed, exasperated. Apparently he’d gotten over himself and rejecting her before and had found it in him to start propositioning her again. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Aw, but _ Ifumiiiiiii _,” he whined. “All I want is a little touching! Or maybe even some-”

“Go be horny somewhere else!” She told him, though when she looked back, he was pouting at her, his face cutely pinched like he was annoyed (but not really).

“But it’s so comfortable here!” As if to demonstrate, he sprawled out on her bed, sighing deeply. “The bed even smells like a cute mage...” He mused, rolling onto his stomach to look at her and give her one of those coy smiles of his.

Ifumi pressed her lips together. “It feels like everyday you reveal another one of your weird fetishes to me.”

Now _ this _ made him sit up some, eyebrows pulling together in distress. “That isn’t a fetish…! A fetish would be if I decided that your socks smelled so good I wanted a foot jo-”

“Grounded!” She found herself shouting. “You’re grounded! Go to your room!”

“Oh, we’re doing that sort of play?” He sat up on his knees, suddenly alert. “In that case, Mommy, I don’t want to go!”

This was getting out of hand. She was letting him become too powerful. “You know what-” She paused, considering her words carefully as she felt his eyes on her. “...how about this. I’ll give you a gift, but you have to behave if you want more of them.”

“...oh?” This seemed to genuinely intrigue him. “And what counts as ‘behaving’?”

“Behaving is helping me with my summon today,” she told him. “And maybe not talking about footjobs in the early morning!”

“...hm.” He rocked back on his toes, knees on the bed as he thought about it, his arms crossing as he tilted his head to inspect her demeanor. “Fair enough... Well, then! Where’s my gift?”

Ifumi considered this for a moment, drumming her fingers across the desk before she said, “Close your eyes.”

“Ooh! Exciting,” he murmured, though he obediently obliged and she refrained from smacking him in the arm.

In the most chaste of manners, she pressed her lips to his cheek and pulled away; more than a peck and not quite long enough to linger if she’d been wearing lipstick, she leaned back rather quickly, and when he peeked at her, his expression soured. “Wh-...! What a con-woman! Now I have to do all of that for-”

In the midst of his complaining, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, too, in a much more thorough manner than the cheek kiss. Her thumb passed against his jawline just so, careful to leave just the right impression of her mouth on him before she leaned back, her eyes still closed as she wet her lips afterward. 

“...for nothing?” She finished for him.

She wished he didn’t look so pleased, eyes half-lidded like a man with a smug sense of knowing how to get whatever he wanted with a glance; still, he smiled as though he’d been beaten at something and shrugged. “A gentleman always keeps his word. Though, I didn’t need the extra kiss.”

“I know,” she admitted, then rocked back on her heels and gestured for him to follow. His implication that she’d done too much didn’t bother her; they both knew she liked him, but that didn’t mean she’d give a mile when she could give an inch. That didn’t account for indulging herself once in a while. “Come on. I set a specific time so Roman would be ready.”

* * *

“_ Servant, Saber. _”

Sweat beaded Ifumi’s brow, some of the gel in her hair dissolving at a rate that made one of her stray curls fall into her face. Could this be…?

When a young woman steps out of the summoning circle, her serious blue-green eyes take in Ifumi’s person with the kind of scrutiny she is accustomed to from kings. “I ask of you. Are you my Master?”

“I am,” Ifumi gasps. “You...you are..???”

“...forgive me, Master.” The Servant bows her head just slightly, eyes closing as she gracefully nods in Ifumi’s direction. “My True Name is King Arthur.”

It worked! She’d summoned King Arthur- oh, but how strange for her to be a woman! “...most things are like that around here, aren’t they?” She found herself muttering. “Ah, well, I’m glad you’re here! I’m Ifumi and this is Chaldea. This isn’t a normal grail war, but...I’ll explain it to you in full. Are you hungry? Oh, wait, I don’t think hungry would be the right word for it-”

A strangely interested expression crossed the king of knight’s features; after a moment or two, she admitted, “...maybe a little. Thank you, Master.”

“You don’t have to be so formal if you don’t want to be, your majesty.”

In the midst of hurriedly explaining such things to the king of knights, she found the room suspiciously silent upon Arthur’s arrival, but kept her thoughts to herself on a matter that had suddenly begun to bother her.

The wizard Merlin was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Strange. Merlin wasn’t the kind of Servant that seemed accustomed to relinquishing a physical form for more than a few seconds (she imagined this had much to do with being locked in a tower for so long; who wouldn’t want to touch and interact with everything in their path after a life of seclusion?), so while he had a habit of popping up just to spook her because he was a bastard, he’d never outright disappeared on her.

It was in the latter half of the day, after deciding that if he wanted to show up he would, she found him in one of the emptier rooms, braiding Nursery Rhyme’s hair into new and interesting shapes if she preferred.

“See? Isn’t it cute? Hm?” He was saying, holding up a mirror for her. 

“Next, I’ll do Merlin’s~!” Alice nodded, suddenly resolute. 

“Oh, no,” Merlin laughed softly. “Master is very picky about braiding my hair herself, little one. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes flickered over to Ifumi as she lingered by the door, huge purple irises taking in her presence before she said, “If it’s Master, that’s okay.”

Ifumi opened her mouth. “Oh...Alice-” Carefully, she responded, “He’s just teasing. You can braid his hair, but for now, I need to talk to him, if that’s alright?”

Those huge eyes blinked at her, digesting her request in the way that only Alice could; after a moment, she hopped out of Merlin’s lap and dusted her dress off before skipping over to Ifumi and nodding, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Will we play later?”

“Of course!” She laughed. “I’ll even bake you cookies.”

This seemed satisfactory for her. “Okay.” Then, as she passed her, “Merlin promised those anyway.”

She side-eyed him. “You already promised her I would make her cookies?”

He only shrugged and gave her one of the most careless smiles she’d ever seen. It didn’t comfort her, though. 

Ifumi was careful to slide the door shut behind her person, her hands behind her back as she turned the lock. “I…” And then carefully, to try again, “You left in the middle of summoning.”

“...ah. That.” He mused, then pressed his hands together in apology. “Sorry, sorry! I’ll be punished for that, won’t I?” The air of flirtation didn’t quite throw her off as well as it should have; though carefully practiced and mostly solid, his veneer of unconcerned flamboyance felt off. She wanted to say that was interesting, but it mostly just concerned her. 

“...is something wrong?” She didn’t dare cross the space between them, feeling as though watching from a distance might give her a better image of him, a better perspective. 

“Mm? Wrong?” He tilts his head a bit at her. 

“Yes. I sort of...summoned King Arthur for you.” She sighed. “But I thought you’d be happy, not…”

“No, no,” he said rather hurriedly, waving his hands. “I _ am _ happy about it!” But he shifted from his spot on the floor, his eyes shifting away from her as he did. “It’s...mm. How do I say this? I haven’t quite sorted out my feelings yet.”

He was good at hiding it with his normal gentle demeanor, but the _ air _ felt off. His abruptness in leaving, secluding himself to this room with only a child in his lap to entertain him...all of them seemed normal but “slightly to the left” as it were. “...oh. I see.” Childish. At times like this, she felt endlessly childish. But it was good to worry about him, some. He seemed to like it, anyway, despite what he said. “That’s good. I mean not- Oh, whatever. I have to make sure she feels at home now. Would you like to come?”

“Mm ...nope!” He smiled. “It’s best to leave things at their own pace, isn’t it?”

Ifumi refrained from sighing. He was so transparent in the way that he wasn’t, and it was showing as he spoke. “Alright. Anyway, I guess I’m baking cookies now?”

“Oh, maybe you should get Red Archer to make something for the King? I’m sure she’ll like it best,” he advised suddenly.

“Hm?” That sounded peculiar, but clearly like something only a person with clairvoyance would say. “...alright. I’ll bring some cookies to your room, if you’re interested.”

“Bring the whole tray~!” He called after her as she left.

* * *

Somewhere, there must be a limit to running away.

He hasn’t found it yet. It’s still just out of his reach, or, moreso, will always be out of his reach. To a human like Ifumi, there is an “end”. For him, it just keeps going, so he has to keep running, right? That’s the way it works. Running is somewhat impartial, the constant flow of motion to a single point; like the cycle of nature, it just kept continuing and progressing until something catastrophic happened.

It’s uncomfortable to admit that he does not want to see her today, because he’s seen her “yesterday”. Before he was summoned to Chaldea it was all he did. He watched, he prayed, he moved things here and again to accommodate for _ something _ new for her, something _ off _. Maybe that would be better. 

But then he’d seen the other realities. He’d seen the countless “no’s” to the single “yes” that was Artoria Pendragon’s life. It was a mess. And he’d made it! He’d kicked down the doors in a young woman’s life, spread around as much dust as he could muster, and called it “kingmaking”. That was the way of things. The way of wizards, the way of kings, the way of faeries. 

It was _ his _ way. So why should he feel so bad about it? Was that fair?

Was it fair that he knew she wasn’t mad at him? That she didn’t resent him? 

‘I haven’t sorted out my feelings,’ he’d said. When had he begun to admit he had feelings?

There were a great many things that should have made him feel “icky” or “gross” or “disgusting”; he had done a great deal of things for the good of humanity, for the good of his nation, and the end result was always justification for the in betweens. But for Arthur-

_ “Thank you, Merlin. _”

...for Arthur it had all been a disaster. A legend, to be sure, and what was left of a tiny nation still _ stood _, but-

_ “Love? I don’t...understand that sort of thing.” _

But…

_ “I’m sorry, your majesty. I’ve forgotten something. I cannot go with you.” _

Rain dripped onto the back of his hand. Rain? Rain...Chaldea was inside, so where could rain-

….where could rain-

He stood from his spot on the floor, adjusting his robes just slightly. If he had free will, he would be responsible for something. If he didn’t, could he really be an “anything”? He put his hood up and closed his eyes, thinking on it. 

He’s tired.

Unwittingly, he finds himself outside of the Master’s door; his staff gently pushes at it where the light comes out, as the door is ajar, and the soft _ creak _ is almost comforting. Ifumi is on the bed, and at first, she doesn’t notice him. Behind him, the door creaks shut. 

She looks up. He doesn’t. Instead, he finds himself crossing the threshold and sitting on the floor near the left side of the bed, then props his staff up against the wall beside him. After a moment, he touches his forehead to the side of the mattress and just sits there.

The most gentle of weights settles atop his head; she doesn’t ask him anything, or say anything, and his pride thanks her for it, but he swallows down the discomfort that has been eating at him since the day he walked into a sign he hadn’t read properly. 

“I could read you something from this book,” she says absently. He recalls she had a book in her hand when he entered. She must’ve left the cooking to Shirou after all. 

He took a precious moment to clear his throat; softly, he asked, “Is it porn?”

A pause. “Would reading you porn make you feel better?”

The softest of laughs escaped him. “How out of character for you to suggest such a thing.” He shakes his head, his bangs mussing against the standard sheets as he lets out a sigh. “I’m going to rest here for the night.”

“...you know. It’s warmer up here.”

He peeked up at her through the fringe of his bangs, taking in her expression in the most measured of manners. “Oh? Are you propositioning me, Ifumi?”

She doesn’t answer at first. Then, “No. But I do like hugs.”

An underrated form of physical contact, to be sure. “Hm,” was all he said, shifting to slide himself onto the bed, specifically so that he was hovering directly over her. For a moment, their eyes met; he watched her unwavering expression, something like confidence brimming beneath the surface, and tilted his head before decidedly sinking onto her person, his head directly above her breast. He wiggled some to get comfortable enough to close his eyes. Then, “In this sort of atmosphere, that could change at any time, couldn’t it?”

“If we were going to have sex, I’d rather us both be in better moods,” she replied, her hand tangling in his hair, and he chuckled.

“Fair enough.” What an easy thing to say. “Good night, Ifumi.”

“Good night.”

**Author's Note:**

> had a time writing this one. not a good or a bad time just. a time. a TIME.....whatever. please be aware that i put my own personal headcanons in everything and there are some parts of merlin's writing that i hate- the idea that he basically knows everything is like. it makes me ITCH yall. we've got literal demi-gods and the half demon knows everything??? bye!
> 
> if you guys need me, i'm going back to grinding pages to level him up again...
> 
> Edit: I JUST did Babylonia and i gotta say? i feel. emotionally. compromised. but also validated? anyway i grailed Merlin because I couldn't wait any longer! time to get him to bond ten!!!!!!!


End file.
